


Slow Grind

by lucyoppa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, M/M, Not enough lube!!!, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, TopSoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyoppa/pseuds/lucyoppa
Summary: In which Jongin has a dirty mind, Kyungsoo is just trying to destress, and Sehun has some trouble remembering where he draws the line of professionalism.





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a birthday fic for my irl best friend, Caitlin, last year, and I'm now cross posting it from [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1198764/slow-grind-exo-sehun-kyungsoo-hunsoo-sesoo-topsoo).
> 
> This was my first non-kaisoo fic. Basically it's the filthy lovechild of that still from Hyung where Kyungsoo's sitting at the bar looking expensive af in his suit, and the mental image of Sehun wearing the sexy fireman outfit from Magic Mike... so yeah. Enjoy! (Also yes, Sehun's stripper name is Willis. Fight me.)
> 
> As always, you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lucy_oppa), or leave me a message on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lucyoppa) if you're shy.
> 
> (also yes I know they don't use enough lube fucking sue me)

 

 

If Sehun were the vocal, honest type, he’d probably tell Jongin that he feels a little ridiculous right now.

 

But he’s not. Sehun is straight-faced ninety-nine percent of the time, and a little shy despite his job, so instead of speaking up, he just watches the highlighter sparkle across the tops of Jongin’s cheekbones, waits for the girl wearing thigh-highs and sparkly shorts out in front of the crowd to call them onstage.

 

(Her stage name is Krystal, but her real name is Soojung and Sehun only knows because Jongin’s been making puppy eyes at her from across the club for at least a month now, but still refuses to admit he has a crush.)

 

She calls them on and disappears off into the opposite stage wing as the lights dim and Sehun follows closely behind Jongin to take his place on stage. The crowd is hushed but excited – in the darkness they can just make out two figures, but nothing more, and for that little moment Sehun gets to steel himself, he is always glad.

 

Then the lights turn on, and the bass floods through the club, heavy and dirty, loud enough to feel in the soles of his feet, and the crowd screams when he first sways his hips and gets into the choreography.

 

Across the stage, Jongin smirks at him, beckoning him closer with one finger and a body roll. Sehun complies to the backtrack of a group of girls in the front row squealing and gasping so loud he thinks a few of them might just hyperventilate.

 

Jongin runs teasing hands up the bright red suspenders that are the only thing adorning Sehun’s bare chest, winking flirtatiously, and Sehun reminds himself to mimic his best friend’s smirk.

 

Jongin’s always been more of a natural at this than Sehun. Sure, he has all the right dance moves, is almost as good as Jongin on the technical side – but Jongin knows how to makes all the right faces, throws out all the right looks to make his acts just that much more obscene. It’s probably why he’s the club’s most popular dancer.

 

Not that Sehun’s jealous, or anything stupid like that. He can cast out a smirk or two if he puts his mind to it, and it’s not like he’s far down on the ‘most requested’ list. Besides, Jongin’s been doing this for much longer than him anyway – had been the one to introduce him to _Club Exotica_ when he’d been nothing more than a broke-ass college student, kicked out by his parents for finally coming out as gay, and having no way to pay his bills and keep up with his love of (admittedly) overpriced shoes at the same time. So it’s no surprise Jongin’s a little better than him, and also that Sehun can never feel anything but grateful to the other boy.

 

He toys with the waistband of Jongin’s pants now, playful and light, but the other catches his hands and pushes them away, shaking his head coquettishly at the crowd. Someone in the audience yells out for him to take them off, and he can’t quite help grinning a little too genuinely at Jongin’s answering smirk in amusement.

 

Despite their line of work, Sehun and Jongin don’t usually take off their clothes onstage. They prefer to do their acts fully (or at least partially) clothed, tantalising the audience a little, so that higher paying customers will request a private strip-show in one of the VIP rooms later. They’re a little less intimidating than stripping for the entire club to see, and, of course, come with a heftier price tag.

 

This is, after all, a job, and both of them have bills to pay, seeing as Jongin’s been off his parent’s payroll for even longer that Sehun has.

 

And that’s why they’re both here, in the end. It’s work, even if Sehun can’t complain much, and Jongin loves it more than anything.

 

Jongin unclips one of Sehun’s suspenders now, and his pants fall dangerously low on his hips, causing an increase in volume from the crowd, someone near the back whooping noticeably louder than the rest.

 

The sound draws his attention, and for the first time tonight, he glances out at the audience. Usually, he doesn’t pay much attention to the people watching – if anyone looked closely at his smirks and coy glances, they would notice his eyes glassed over and unseeing. It’s a bit of a coping mechanism, he supposes, since his shyness means he used to get quite a bit of stage fright, and this was the only way he knew how to deal.

 

But this time, when he looks out, he makes eye-contact. Not with the person he thinks yelled so loudly just a second ago, because the man sitting by the bar whose eyes he meets looks calm and collected – not the type to yell out to a couple of strippers _at all_ , with his expensive suit, expensive watch, and one hand toying with the stem of a sparkling cocktail glass.

 

And most noticeably: he’s completely, and ridiculously attractive, with his dark eyes and full lips, hair carefully combed and styled into a side-part, and legs neatly crossed in front of him.

 

Sehun’s own staring verges a little on uncomfortably long when the stranger doesn’t look away – doesn’t even seem to _blink_ – but he tears his eyes away from the gorgeous man when he nearly misses the next step in the choreography and has to stop himself from stumbling into Jongin.

 

He wants to look back, see if the man is still watching him, but he can’t because this is the part where he turns to Jongin for some heavy eye contact, bodies getting closer and closer as they run their hands across each other’s skin to a backdrop of hysterical screaming. And it’s so weird because Sehun’s hardly ever interested in anyone like that, let alone _customers_ , but he can’t really think about it when Jongin’s pulling him closer, moulding their lips together in a kiss that has the crowd’s volume reaching fever-pitch.

 

Jongin’s lips are plump and full where Sehun’s are thin, and he kisses all soft and hungry, skilfully licking along the seam of his mouth to poke his tongue in. It’s a nice kiss, even if Sehun doesn’t feel any fireworks, knows that despite the fact that this scene is all hot and heavy and they’re making out onstage in front of hundreds of people, he really doesn’t feel anything for Jongin that isn’t platonic.

 

They’re just two best friends that make out sometimes. It isn’t really a big deal.

 

At this point – with Sehun grabbing at Jongin’s face with desperate, open palms – the sprinklers come on. Because did he mention that their act is supposed to be them as ‘sexy firemen’? Did he mention that’s the main reason he felt so mortified while waiting in the stage wing?

 

It doesn’t really make sense, not when any self-respecting fireman wouldn’t go _near_ a fire shirtless (Sehun reckons it must be a safety hazard) and the cheap, plastic helmets they’d picked up at a party favour shop wouldn’t really provide any protection, even if he just fell the metre drop offstage. And then, he doesn’t think their act has much relevance to being a fireman anyway, but Sehun’s learnt by now not to question it.

 

You get two attractive men wearing hardly anything, you get them to make out, you get them wet, and everyone’s happy. End of story. No need to get all finnicky about the finer details, or anything.

 

The whole thing was Jongin’s idea anyway, so he takes no responsibility for it. It had all started three weeks ago, when the two of them had been reminiscing about their childhoods over steaming mugs of coffee – hot chocolate in Jongin’s case – and Sehun had mentioned that at one stage, he’d wanted to become a firefighter. Jongin had gotten that evil little glint in his eye that told Sehun he was about to ruin one of his most precious childhood memories, and now here they are onstage in some kind of lewd mockery of his past dream.

 

Some small part of him is vaguely amused. A larger part of him thinks Jongin ought to be ashamed of his dirty mind.

 

By the time they pull apart, they’re both soaked, water streaming down toned chests in rivulets, and the crowd is in total uproar. Jongin presses one more quick, fleeting peck to his lips, just to tease, before he pulls away, and the two of them turn back to face the audience with matching smirks on their faces.

 

Now they’re supposed to collect the money the front row has been throwing at them for the entire performance, but Sehun can’t quite resist craning his neck just a little, eyes darting around until he finds the handsome stranger again.

 

His eyes are still glued to Sehun, and they look dark in a strange way. Hungry, like he’s used to, but a little brooding, a little thoughtful too.

 

Sehun shivers. It has nothing to do with how his clothes are soaked through though.

 

He snaps back to reality, and kneels alongside Jongin, pulling off his helmet to let all the giggling women in the front row fill it with crisp notes. Beside him, Jongin scoops up what’s already there off of the floor.

 

_Rich businessman destressing after a long day?_ Sehun wonders.

 

And usually he wouldn’t be that interested, but…

 

“Three o’clock, by the bar. I call dibs,” he whispers to Jongin as they make their way offstage, pushing dripping wet bangs out of his eyes.

 

Jongin shoots him a funny look.

 

“Since when do you call dibs on customers?” He asks, and Sehun can’t really protest, because usually, he just takes what he gets and is happy with it.

 

“He looks rich,” Sehun says, with a shrug.

 

But he knows it’s slightly more than that, and he’s thankful Jongin doesn’t press.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once Sehun has towelled off, fixed his hair and makeup, and changed into a very similar outfit to the one he was wearing onstage (because, unfortunately for all of his embarrassment, he’s found it’s to his advantage if even spectacularly drunk people can recognise him as the same guy who was up on stage earlier), he heads out to work the floor.

 

(Normally he’d stick around and bug Jongin for a few minutes, but he’d spotted the other on the way out, and he’d finally managed to corner Soojung into conversation while she touched up her makeup. She’d looked outright bored, but then that’s probably just her face, and it’s not like Sehun, King of the Resting Bitch Faces, has any room to judge.)

 

It takes him a moment to spot the stranger from before, because now that no one’s up on stage, more people have flocked to the bar in the interlude. Sehun worries that maybe the man has left, or even if he hasn’t, he’s going to be snagged by one of the other customers for a dance before he manages to find him.

 

But then the crowd parts a little, and he’s there, sitting in the same spot as before, staring pensively down at his drink. Sehun approaches from behind, swallowing down his natural shyness as he goes, and the other doesn’t notice until Sehun slides onto the barstool beside him and flags down the bartender for a drink.

 

“Rough day at work?” He questions casually as the bartender slides a glass across the countertop to him, and the hard set of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows finally lifts so that he can turn to regard Sehun properly.

 

The man sips at his drink before he answers, all slow and unhurried, even as he sets it gently back down on the countertop. There’s an air of quiet confidence about him: nothing about the way he sits and acts makes Sehun think he’s in any way cocky, but there’s a self-assurance about the way that he moves, the way his muscles shift under his clothes when he does so.

 

The music is quieter here by the bar, so far away from the stage, but when the man next speaks, his voice is soft enough that Sehun just has to strain to hear him over the chatter and general noise around them in the busy club.

 

“Something like that,” he answers, and his voice is smooth and low – so very appealing it makes Sehun’s toes curl into the soles of his combat boots. “You’re the one who performed earlier. Willis, right?”

 

It’s not really a question, so Sehun doesn’t answer.

 

“Were you watching me?” he asks instead, after a long draught of his own drink. He’s feeling a little giddy, but it hasn’t even been long enough for the alcohol to start taking effect yet. Perhaps it’s the way this stranger’s looking at him, his eyes intriguingly unreadable, the lines between his eyebrows softened in a contrast to the light frown he wore when Sehun had just approached.

 

“Honestly, who wasn’t?” There’s a hint of a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, and his voice has warmed somewhat. It pushes Sehun’s pulse up a couple of notches, and this is so weird.

 

So weird, because when was the last time he felt this way about someone? He’s used to reading people easily, getting bored quickly, and not really caring enough to put in the effort. But something about this man is different, and if Sehun isn’t hooked yet, he thinks he might still be just about to swallow the bait.

 

“I think most of the audience was watching my friend rather,” he answers, with a laugh that’s a little too genuine to be keeping up his act properly. _What are you doing,_ his mind screams even as he continues, because anyone with half a brain knows that talking up another stripper while you’re trying to snag yourself a dance isn’t the best of tactics. “Kai. He’s the most popular dancer here, you know.”

 

The stranger drops his eyes momentarily as he fiddles with his glass again.

 

“I was a little too busy watching you to even notice him.”

 

It’s blatant flattery – Sehun doesn’t think that could possibly be true – but his chest flutters with brief, warm affection for the man. And he’s so stupid – this is _so stupid_ – because he’s a _customer_ , and Sehun’s supposed to be a professional.

 

_Get a grip,_ he tells himself.

 

“Are you here alone?” Sehun finds himself changing the subject anyway. It’s the most effective way to control his own emotions.

 

He remembers himself in that moment – that he’s a stripper, that he’s at work, that this is an _act_ – and he lightly rests his fingertips on the stranger’s knee. The contact is a little teasing, but too light to be anything other than innocent, and Sehun finds himself staring at the contrast of his pale skin against the dark blue material.

 

“I am,” comes the reply, the man glancing down to where Sehun’s palm now flattens out, stroking over the fabric of his trousers gently. He makes no outward reaction even as he lifts his glass again, to sip. “Why do you ask?”

 

“If you’re feeling lonely,” Sehun moves his hand just a little higher up the man’s thigh before flicking his eyes up coyly. “I could help you out with that.”

 

He’s meant to be playful and flirtatious, light and inviting, and usually Sehun’s perfectly good at that, even if it’s not much what he’s like in reality. But under this man’s scrutiny, he finds himself wanting to blush and stammer, feels a little ridiculous even as he tries to keep up the act.

 

“Oh?” The stranger seems to catch on, lifting one suggestive eyebrow. It’s hot. _This man is hot_ , thinks Sehun. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“A lap dance,” he shrugs nonchalantly, like the idea of grinding up on this particular stranger for a good ten minutes doesn’t have his own temperature rising to something unhealthy. “Or a strip show. Whichever you prefer.”

 

The stranger drops his eyes again, smiling a little at this. It’s charming, the way the corners of his mouth turn down, while seeming to simultaneously try and lift into a grin that would show his teeth, almost as if his face is at war with itself.

 

And yet again, Sehun can’t read what that means. It’s a little maddening, if he’s honest.

 

“Here?” The man asks, once he gets his face back under control. He’s still smiling, just a little, but it’s turned into something a little more like a smirk by now.

 

“We’d have to move to a more comfortable chair,” Sehun explains, stroking even further up the man’s thigh, and resisting the urge to squeeze its plush softness, to dig his fingers in and get a good feel. He drops his voice and leans in with his next words. “Or… it comes with a price tag, but if you prefer the privacy, there’s always the VIP lounge.”

 

The stranger takes a moment to pick up his glass and tip the rest of his drink back, watching Sehun the whole time, even as he lowers it back to the counter. It gets a little lost in the music, but Sehun thinks he might just catch the tail end of a thoughtful hum as the man pauses, making up his mind.

 

“I suppose we could do that,” he answers after another moment, and Sehun didn’t realise he was holding a breath until he lets it out at those words – doesn’t know why either, since he’s never had a vested interest in a client accepting a proposition before.

 

_He’s different,_ his mind screams at him, even as he stands from his barstool, takes the stranger by the hand, and tells him to “Follow me then.”

 

Sehun thumbs along one of the veins on the back of the man’s hand absentmindedly as he leads him up a set of stairs at the side of the club, tugging him along until they get to the VIP lounge. It’s a larger room made up of a series of separate little enclaves, all with heavy velvet curtains to give the occupants some privacy. A couple of curtains are already drawn, and Sehun nods at the bouncer stationed at the top of the stairs as he passes, choosing a couch further back in the room, and drawing the curtain closed behind the two of them.

 

It’s quieter in this area of the club, and the little room is luxuriously plush, all crushed velvets and deep burgundies. His customer looks more at home here, surrounded by so much opulence, tasteful suit and glistening watch fitting right in with the décor.

 

“Have a seat,” Sehun tells the man as he toes off his boots near the entrance. If he wants a strip show, there’s no way to take off combat boots in a way that’s even remotely sexy, and even if he doesn’t, it’s still nicer to give lap dances barefoot, and not run the risk of stomping on the customer’s toes.

 

“So what’s it gonna be,” he asks, approaching the man, who still hasn’t sat down despite Sehun’s previous words. He places a palm on each shoulder and pushes him lightly, causing him to sink down onto the couch without any resistance, knees folding smoothly under him as he sits. “Lap dance or strip show?”

 

The other spreads his hands into the soft, velvet cushions on either side of his legs, feeling the fabric a little distractedly before he looks back up at Sehun

 

“Can I have both?” He raises an eyebrow as if in challenge, and inner Sehun – the normal, real-life, every day kind of Sehun – kind of wants to faint a little.

 

_Good choice,_ he thinks, despite himself.

 

“You can have whatever you want, honey,” Sehun says, dropping himself into the man’s lap gracefully, hands resting on his shoulders and knees bracketing his hips. Up close like this, their height difference is so pronounced that Sehun’s a little shocked he didn’t notice earlier, what with him towering over the other like this.

 

But the man’s still got one eyebrow raised, and he’s smirking a little, and everything from the way he sits to the set of his shoulders screams ‘power’, and in the end it’s Sehun who ends up feeling small.

 

“What’s your name then,” he asks as he starts to get a feel for the beat, hips moving languidly as he waits for the song to pick up. And for once, he finds he’s asking not just to make pointless small talk, to keep the customer entertained and comfortable, but because he genuinely wants to know.

 

(And if Sehun thought his thighs were soft earlier, just by touching, he’s in outright heaven now, sitting on top of them.)

 

“Kyungsoo,” is the smooth, deep reply, and Sehun repeats the name himself, trying it on for size.

 

He finds he likes it. A lot.

 

His hands come up, finding their own way to link behind Kyungsoo’s neck, fingertips teasing his nape. Beneath him, he feels Kyungsoo shudder, feels his next exhale across his face a little harder.

 

“You come here often then Kyungsoo?” He asks, and again, it’s by the book – awkward silences make the customer uncomfortable, so you don’t let them happen – but Sehun thinks he’d probably ask anyway.

 

The beat is heavier now, better for Sehun to rock his hips against Kyungsoo a little more roughly. He watches the way the other’s adam’s apple bobs in reaction with fascination.

 

“No. Not really.” Kyungsoo seems to have some trouble with his hands, lifting them to Sehun’s hips, but hovering unsurely, as if conflicted over whether to touch or not. “Clubs aren’t really my thing.”

 

“You can touch,” Sehun nods, even as his mind screams _no he can’t!_ “So why tonight?”

 

And honestly, what is he doing? It’s not as if the club just lets their dancers have a free-for-all with the customers. There are laws – and then there are rules that the club enforces to protect themselves from said laws, and they tend to err on the side of conservative when it comes to stripper-customer interaction.

 

So that means hands _off_ , but Sehun’s just gone and told Kyungsoo the opposite.

 

He’s never slipped up like this before…

 

“I’m, _ahh_ ,” – Kyungsoo pauses for a little exhale, either in thought or in reaction to how Sehun now starts working his hips in tight little circles – “just trying to destress, I guess.”

 

Strong, warm palms settle on Sehun’s hips in that moment, and his temperature spikes, the room suddenly too hot.

 

“Well I hope I can help,” he teases, even as he studies the other’s face closely. His eyebrows are so thick and unkempt – and Sehun notes that even though he takes the time to trim and wax his own, it’s not unattractive on this man. He rather thinks it suits him. “Is it work?”

 

Kyungsoo takes a moment to swallow before he answers, and Sehun feels the beginnings of a hard on forming in the other’s pants.

 

And just the thought that he’s turning Kyungsoo on like this has his own cock twitching. Which is… strange, to say the least, because he’s lost track of how long it’s been since he stopped getting anything out of giving dances, it being a memory so distant, that for a second, he’s shocked.

 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo answers, looking a little breathless, hands shifting to smooth up to Sehun’s waist. The stripper is momentarily floored by just how much it makes him _want_ , and the hands that run across Kyungsoo’s shoulders, down his arms to catch his hands and bring them up to his chest is more for his own sanity than the other’s pleasure. “I have a stressful job.”

 

“Tell me what you do,” says Sehun, and his own fingers have travelled to toy with Kyungsoo’s watch, his eyes dipping too when he realises what he’s doing.

 

He recognises the brand. Sehun can’t help that he has a penchant for pretty, expensive things.

 

“I’m a lawyer,” Kyungsoo replies, shifting a little beneath him since he’s getting to the uncomfortable point of hardness now. “Do you like it?”

 

“Hm?” Sehun looks up in question, he’d gotten distracted there, for a moment.

 

The other man chuckles, though it’s a little forced between gritted teeth, the light dusting of pink across his cheekbones telling.

 

“My watch. Do you like it?”

 

_Yes_ , Sehun thinks. _It’s expensive and I can’t afford it. Of course I like it._

 

“It looks expensive,” Sehun replies, noncommittally.

 

Kyungsoo chuckles again, but this time, he licks his lips right after, and it’s so damn arousing to Sehun – his dick twitching in interest yet again – that he decides right now is a good time to get up and turn around, sit himself back down on Kyungsoo’s lap with his back to his chest.

 

He might as well get this over with before he gets embarrassingly hard. It’s been so long since he’s had to deal with that, and he kind of doesn’t feel like it tonight.

 

But then, even if he can’t see Kyungsoo’s face now, it doesn’t really help, since those damn hands are back on his skin, resting on his hips, thumbs rubbing distracting little circles into his lower back. Half of him wants to lean into it, like a cat receiving head scratches, and the other half wants to push him off and snap at him for touching, since it’s so damn distracting.

 

But then, _he’s_ the one that had to go and tell Kyungsoo he was allowed. And he’s not about to go and lose his first customer of the night by making him angry.

 

(His electricity bill was usually high this month – he doesn’t think he can afford it.)

 

Sehun grinds his ass back into Kyungsoo’s lap now, and is rewarded with a choked off little groan right in his ear. The hands on his hips grip onto the first thing they find – his suspenders – and hold fast.

 

He repeats the move, and this time he definitely feels Kyungsoo’s member twitch against him – a prominent bulge that’s warm even through the thick fabric of two sets of pants separating them

 

And maybe Kyungsoo’s let this touching thing get to his head, because he retaliates by pulling up one of the suspenders and letting it snap back against Sehun’s skin. He whimpers when it hits his nipple, and suddenly he’s sensitive and turned on, and he’s downright had _enough_.

 

“Y-you can take them off.” Curse his voice for sounding more like a whine than someone who’s at work, professional, in control. Curse his body for getting so worked up. Curse Kyungsoo’s hard-on for poking against his ass so distractingly. Curse it all.

 

And no – technically, Kyungsoo _can’t_ take them off, since if letting him touch wasn’t allowed, doing _this_ is ripping up the rule book and setting it alight.

 

But Sehun doesn’t say a damn word when Kyungsoo’s hands move to deftly remove the suspenders from the front of his pants, and again to get the clips at the back, before tossing them aside and running fingers up a now-bare chest, earning a gasp.

 

Maybe he’s losing his mind.

 

He thinks he definitely is when he gets up and turns around, and Kyungsoo’s eyes are dark with arousal as he watches Sehun unzip his fly, slowly, teasingly, just like he’s learnt the customers like it.

 

And for the first time, Sehun finds himself genuinely hoping it works.

 

He starts to draw his pants down in the next moment, feels those eyes roaming across his thighs when they come into view.

 

Kyungsoo’s breathing is laboured, and so is his own, and he belatedly notes that the room has fallen silent despite it, their small talk having petered out some time ago.

 

Sehun’s pants hit the floor with a quiet, ruffled noise, and he takes a moment to cast them aside before he crawls into Kyungsoo’s lap and starts moving his hips once more, wearing nothing but a pair of tight little red briefs now.

 

( _‘Fire engine red’_. He can still see Jongin’s smirk…)

 

Kyungsoo’s hands are on his hips again, but this time, it’s a little rougher, a tad possessive as he tugs him closer on his lap. Sehun doesn’t have to look down to know he’s embarrassingly hard, and he only hopes there isn’t an obvious wet spot on the front of his underwear, but with the way Kyungsoo growls, low in the back of his throat, when he next thrusts, there’s quite a possibility.

 

His fingers come up to bury in Kyungsoo’s hair, and he leans a little closer when he switches from thrusting to moving in little circles. Kyungsoo’s hands abandon his hips in favour of resting on his shoulders, one thumb just tracing a collarbone lightly.

 

Kyungsoo’s mouth is slightly parted, his lips wet, and all of a sudden, those same hands are pulling Sehun down by the shoulders, those same lips crashing into his and kissing him like he’s starved.

 

It’s such a surprise that he squeaks, but it gets all muffled into a press of lips and just a trace of tongue. He stills on the other man’s lap, lips sealed shut in absolute shock, his mind outright refusing to process this new development.

 

And then, just as quickly as it had happened in the first place, he’s released, Kyungsoo reels back, eyes wide, and lets him go, palms hovering and unsure between the two of them.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I –” Sehun’s pulse skyrockets as Kyungsoo stumbles through an apology, his lips _burning_ when he realises what just happened. “I got carried away –”

 

_He kissed me._

 

He pauses to take a shuddering, deep breath, closes his eyes for just a second, and ignores Kyungsoo’s feeble attempts to explain.

 

The last thing he registers before he leans down and cuts off the other’s stammering with his mouth, is that Kyungsoo’s wide-eyed, shocked expression is unexpectedly _cute_ , but the thought gets lost at the same time as he closes his eyes and melts into it.

 

And again, his mind is screaming. Because this is against the rules – yes, like everything that led up to it, but this is _so very_ against the rules that if the bouncer catches them, he could lose his job.

 

But Kyungsoo chooses that moment to kiss him back, licking into a soft, willing mouth, and the voice in the back of Sehun’s mind – for once – shuts the hell up.

 

He whimpers when hands find their place on his ass, firm grip making him shift and squirm on Kyungsoo’s lap. The other just tilts his head and deepens the kiss so skilfully that it has Sehun’s head swimming, his toes curling.

 

And then there’s his own hands – somehow still buried in Kyungsoo’s hair – that twist and pull, just a little, when the other licks across the back of his front teeth. It’s a sinful little drag of pleasure that has Sehun whimpering again, shifting and restless until their erections brush and Kyungsoo makes a soft noise of his own into the kiss.

 

Sehun feels a little drunk, but one drink would never get him this tipsy. He’s totally out of his depth right now, but all he knows is he wants to hear that noise again, so he starts rocking his hips while they make out. Almost like he’s still trying to pretend this is just a lap dance, that he hasn’t turned to putty on a ridiculously handsome stranger’s lap.

 

It works because Kyungsoo groans almost a little too loudly, and the kiss breaks off for the two of them to catch their breaths. Sehun pants and squirms, hips moving as he still tries to grind down into Kyungsoo, and he knows he must look a mess right now, with his cheeks feeling too hot, and his lips quivering in the aftermath.

 

Belatedly, he realises that they’re so close, that his legs have attempted to wrap around the other’s waist in the meantime, that their noses are still brushing and there’s a reason he can feel hot puffs of breath across his face. _Kyungsoo’s got really beautiful eyes_ , he thinks, watching them slip half-mast as he glances down at Sehun’s mouth for a second.

 

The shorter man is starting to shift underneath him in vain now, his erection straining against his pants in a way Sehun knows must be painful. And maybe, just maybe, the bartender slipped something into his drink earlier, because on any other occasion, with any other person, Sehun wouldn’t slide off the man’s lap and onto his knees, parting the legs in front of him with gentle hands on pliant thighs.

 

His mind finally catches up with him when his hands move to Kyungsoo’s fly, but then it only tells him to ask “is this okay?” as he toys with the zipper, the voice that should tell him _‘no’_ , _‘stop’_ , and _‘don’t’_ falling ominously silent.

 

“I should be the one asking you that,” Kyungsoo manages, voice strained and teeth clenched. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

 

The pet name sets his heart racing as Sehun works down the fly and pulls Kyungsoo’s cock out of his underwear. It’s hot and thick in his hand, and he earns a hiss by tracing one of the veins running down the side with a thumb.

 

Sehun hasn’t slept with a whole lot of people – despite the stereotypes that come with his job, he’s _not_ a prostitute – and given head to even fewer, so he spends a moment reacquainting himself with the task. First, he gives a kittenish lick to the tip, feeling his face heat as he does so, and the thighs on either side of his face tense in reaction. The taste is strong, but not unpleasant, and Sehun only spends only a couple of seconds deliberating before he decides he can deal, and wraps his lips around the head, suckling lightly.

 

Kyungsoo groans softly, hands landing in the bleached strands of his hair – curling there, but not gripping or pulling. Taking that as encouragement, Sehun bobs his head a little lower, sucks a little harder, and closes his eyes as he starts to get into it.

 

Then there’s a faint prickle along his scalp as Kyungsoo tugs on his hair, just a little. When he next speaks, his voice is hushed, strained, and so aroused that Sehun feels something coil tight in his stomach with want and desire.

 

“Look at me baby,” comes the command, and Sehun complies, flicking his eyes up despite the knowledge that he must look ruined – cheeks red, hair mussed, and mouth full – like this.

 

His eyes start to water when he tries to take in more of the shaft. Kyungsoo’s thick, and the seams of his mouth ache in protest, so he has to pause to blink away the tears forming before he continues.

 

“God you’re gorgeous.” The fingers in his hair loosen and release, come down to card against his jaw in encouragement as he struggles with Kyungsoo’s girth. “Like a work of art.”

 

Again with the flattery. Sehun thinks it’s a little much, and dips down even lower to distract himself from the way his cheeks redden all over again.

 

He’s out of practice though, and the moment the head of Kyungsoo’s cock brushes his gag reflex, he has to pull off coughing and spluttering for air, feeling a little wrecked and a little ridiculous as he can’t quite stop the drool that runs down his chin.

 

But Kyungsoo just shifts to wipe it away with a thumb, watching him with half-lidded eyes as he murmurs: “Take your time, baby.”

 

So he tries again, fingertips gripping onto Kyungsoo’s knees hard as he guides his mouth down the shaft, slowly, steadily, until his nose brushes against pubic hair and he swallows, throat fluttering around Kyungsoo, making him choke and spit on whatever words he was going to say next.

 

But then he needs to breathe, and he pulls off to pant and watch Kyungsoo recover, eyes that had fluttered shut coming open again to watch him. There’s a hand slowly massaging his swollen throat, and Sehun fights for his oxygen back, unsure of when it left the tiny room.

 

“You should let me keep you,” and god, Kyungsoo’s still watching him and Sehun might just drown in that look. “I could take you places, buy you things…”

 

It’s definitely not the first time a customer’s made Sehun such an offer, but it _is_ the first time he finds himself breathless in response, turned on and wholly partial to the idea of this attractive man spoiling him with all of the things he can’t afford.

 

He doesn’t respond, since he’s still catching his breath, but Kyungsoo carries on without him, unperturbed.

 

“God the things I want to do to you…” That little knot in Sehun’s stomach coils a little tighter, painful and so _wanting_. “But for now, will you let me fuck you?”

 

Sehun wonders, for a second, when his control of the situation slipped so much that he no longer has _any_. But then he decides he’s just as turned on, just as aroused as Kyungsoo looks, and he really just doesn’t actually care anymore.

 

“I don’t have any lube,” he answers honestly, because despite how desperate he is, having Kyungsoo go in dry is _not_ on his bucket list.

 

“We’ll go slow,” the other replies, hand moving up to trace Sehun’s cheek now, where he still kneels between his legs. “And I can eat you out first.”

 

Sehun has to pause to let the rush of warmth that the words cause work its way through him. When he opens his eyes, he answers in a small voice: “Alright. But we have to be quiet. It’s not allowed.”

 

Kyungsoo smirks as he gets up, towering above him.

 

“Try not to scream then,” he says, just as he grabs Sehun by the hand and pulls him to his feet.

 

Moments later Sehun has his knees bent and his ass in the air as he kneels on the couch, head pillowed on arms folded up on the armrest, while Kyungsoo’s weight makes the cushions dip just behind him. He hears the soft sound of clothes ruffling while the other peels off his suit jacket and drapes it across the back of the couch.

 

“You have the nicest ass,” Kyungsoo tells him, just before palms come up to rest on his hips, and there’s a kiss smouldering against his lower back.

 

The hands then move, running along his skin until he has a good handful of an ass-cheek in each, spreading him apart. And then the kisses trail lower too, until Kyungsoo’s breath is lingering just above his tailbone, and Sehun’s heartbeat thunders in his ears.

 

He hears Kyungsoo shift, feels the puffs of air from his exhales move a little lower, and then the next thing he knows there’s a tongue poking at his entrance, and Sehun burrows his face further into his own arms, because _god_ , it’s been too long since someone’s done this to him, and he’s forgotten just how good it feels.

 

Kyungsoo starts by licking around and over the rim, poking only the tip of his tongue in every two or three strokes just to tease. By the time Sehun turns his head to the side to look back at him, he’s impatient and over it and ready to move the hell on, so he pushes his ass back a little to show Kyungsoo what he wants.

 

Immediately the other man draws back with a chuckle, and Sehun groans a little in frustration.

 

“Patience,” Kyungsoo tuts, but then Sehun isn’t complaining anymore when he stretches him a little wider, and that mouth is back against him, pushing his tongue in properly now.

 

He eases in slowly, and Sehun can’t help but pant when he feels lips on his rim. Kyungsoo’s lips are soft and pillowy, and Sehun’s just so _sensitive_ down there, that he has to stop himself from squirming for fear it might push Kyungsoo right out.

 

The other starts to get into it, the sound of licking and sucking relatively loud – even to the backdrop of the music – and Sehun prays it won’t be a dead giveaway of what they’re doing behind nothing more than a curtain. Kyungsoo’s nose presses against his tailbone, and he curls his tongue up inside him just _right_ – so much so that Sehun has to press his forehead down onto his arms and breathe through it, trying his hardest not to moan so loud that the bouncer gets suspicious.

 

He’s grinding back onto Kyungsoo’s face by the time the other has to pull away for air, and Sehun feels sticky and hot all over when he’s breathlessly asked: “Is it good?”

 

“Hm,” Sehun hums in assent, turning his head to rest his cheek on his arms and watch as Kyungsoo brings one hand up to his mouth to suck on two fingers. In the back of his mind, his voice of reason is trying to make itself heard again, but the room’s too clouded with something feverish for it to really break through and get Sehun to listen.

 

And then he shuts it out completely, because Kyungsoo’s pressing one wet finger against his entrance, testing the ring of muscles momentarily before he pushes steadily through. And Sehun remembers why saliva doesn’t make very good lube, because it’s only the first finger and it burns a little, but it’s nothing too bad yet, so he bears with it.

 

The other hand rubs soothing circles against his ass even as Kyungsoo spreads him open, and Sehun has to grit his teeth as the second finger eases in – more painful than the first, but Kyungsoo’s really taken the time to get them properly wet, so it’s not like he can’t take it.

 

And then they move, slowly thrusting in and out to stretch him, scissoring him open with a moderate burn. It’s when he feels breath simmer against his entrance again, and suddenly Kyungsoo’s stretching the two fingers wide to poke his tongue in between that he moans, utterly surprised and completely turned on by the way his tongue and fingers move inside him together.

 

The sound trails off to a pleased hum when Kyungsoo brushes his prostate, and minutes later Sehun’s been worked into a proper mess as he weeps inaudibly into his arms, knees spreading and back arching at the onslaught coming from behind.

 

“Please,” he mumbles into his arms, and it’s by god’s grace that Kyungsoo seems to both hear and understand, because he doesn’t think he can manage words right now.

 

The other draws his fingers out and licks over his entrance a few more times, making sure he’s nice and wet before withdrawing completely. And then there’s a hand soothing over his back and Kyungsoo’s saying: “I think it would be less painful if you rode me.”

 

Sehun knows it’s true – that it will hurt less if he can control the depth and speed, at least to begin with – so he manoeuvres himself up on shaky legs. Kyungsoo doesn’t take off his pants, but pulls them down to about mid-thigh before he sits, and then Sehun’s taking his place on his lap once more, a little jittery with anticipation.

 

He braces his elbows on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, and hovers for a moment to let him spit in his hand and coat his own cock with it. That same hand ends up on his hip, to steady him, and then he’s lowering just enough to feel the head press against his entrance, swallowing nerves as he goes.

 

One of his own hands goes down to hold Kyungsoo’s cock steady as he presses down enough for it to breach, and it hurts, Sehun won’t lie, so after the head has made it through, he pauses to catch his breath and stay still for a moment. The hand on his hip runs up and down his side comfortingly, the other thumbs little circles into his thigh, and the gestures are enough to distract Sehun from the pain and sink a little further.

 

He makes progress painfully slow, lowering centimetre by centimetre, but Kyungsoo doesn’t complain or rush him, even if Sehun knows it must be torture to keep still like this. But eventually he bottoms out, ass flush with Kyungsoo’s thighs, and he screws his eyes shut and clings tight to the other man’s shoulders, waiting for the sting to go away.

 

“You alright baby?” Kyungsoo asks, and he doesn’t realise there are tears pricking the corners of his eyes until the other reaches up to thumb them away. He nods, and takes one more deep breath, before he rolls his hips once, and leans down to kiss the man in front of him.

 

The grip on his hips tightens to a vice in reaction to the movement, and Kyungsoo takes over the kiss for him while he recovers from a fresh wave of pain. It turns sloppy when he moves for a second time, teeth bumping clumsily, a little bit of drool leaking out, and Kyungsoo shudders beneath him with the effort to keep still, and not thrust up into the man seated on his lap.

 

But Sehun keeps at it, and the pain soon dulls, working his hips in slow circles and breaking the kiss to press his forehead to Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he increases the pace. The other groans softly, shifting and restless beneath him, and Sehun nearly chokes when he bucks up into him, brushing something inside him that sets off little fireworks on the backs of his eyelids.

 

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks when Sehun stills completely, quivering and just holding on. Because now, with the way they’re sitting, the head of Kyungsoo’s cock is all pressed up against his prostate, every time one of them so much as _breathes_ it sends little bursts of electricity through all of his limbs.

 

He nods, even with his face still mushed into Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and the other feels rather than sees the action. He seems to understand though, because in the next moment, arms are sliding around his back, and Sehun’s being tipped forward. His eyes fly open in alarm, but before he can voice some sort of complaint, Kyungsoo’s already swung him around and pressed his back into the couch cushions, slipping out of Sehun entirely with all of the complicated manoeuvring.

 

He spreads his legs as best he can – with one calf hooking over the back of the couch – while Kyungsoo spits in his hand again and re-coats his cock with saliva to make the slide easier when he next pushes in. He’s wetter now anyway from pre-come, and Sehun finds that even though Kyungsoo’s careful to be quite gentle, there’s almost no noticeable pain left anyway.

 

Once he’s fully sheathed, he sits up on his knees and plants one foot on the floor to stabilise, sliding his arms under Sehun’s hips to lift him up a little. Sehun’s hands brace on the armrest behind his head, elbows up, when Kyungsoo first draws out and pushes back in, and his eyes flutter shut, letting Kyungsoo do his thing.

 

It’s slow at first, and Sehun knows they won’t be able to go particularly fast, since the sound of skin on skin is already a little too loud for his comfort, even at this pace. But then Kyungsoo seems to find the right angle again, and that thought is replaced with a little gasp of “ _there”_ , as he tosses his head to the side in pleasure.

 

Kyungsoo indulges him, keeping the angle and thrusting in faster. The velvet cushion-covers catch and stick to his skin as he writhes, the one leg not hooked over the couch coming up to wrap around Kyungsoo’s waist and draw him closer.

 

He’s never done anything like this before – let a stranger fuck him in a semi-private area of a busy, Friday-night club. It’s a little exhilarating, a lot nerve-wracking, and Sehun thinks maybe that’s the reason he feels so close to his peak already, why every little movement, brush, and slide of skin has him gasping, little whimpers and whines spilling from his mouth even when he stuffs a knuckle in between his teeth to shut himself up.

 

But Kyungsoo’s not doing much better himself, pausing to swallow and steady his hips before leaning down to catch himself with elbows on either side of Sehun’s torso. He kisses him now, and it’s god-sent, because it shuts Sehun the hell up when he can’t be making this much noise, but also torture because the new angle forces him deeper, makes Sehun abandon the armrest to drag his nails down the fabric still covering Kyungsoo’s back.

 

Minutes later, they’re still making out, but Sehun’s breathing harshly through his nose, wriggling and impatient. The room is so hot, his mind so muddled, and even if Kyungsoo’s mouth weren’t in the way, he doesn’t think he could manage words right now. So instead of saying anything, he just reaches down between them to fist his own cock, jerking once, twice, before a particularly hard thrust from Kyungsoo has him breaking the kiss and coming into his fist with a choked off groan.

 

It’s only when he’s coming down from his high, vision slowly returning, that he realises Kyungsoo’s coming too, his face buried in Sehun’s neck and hips stuttering against him. The other growls, deep and low, against his skin as he releases, and Sehun feels weak-kneed, body going limp as he lets it happen, barely registering the wet burst deep inside him before Kyungsoo pulls out.

 

Sehun’s eyes slip shut as he comes back down to earth, and he can hear Kyungsoo pulling up his pants, the sound of his zipper being done up. And physically, his body feels relaxed, comfortable (if a little sticky) and pleasantly sated. But mentally, that little voice in the back of his mind chooses this moment to wake the hell back up, and now it’s screaming every profanity in every language he’s ever learnt at the top of its lungs.

 

“Are you alright?” Kyungsoo asks, and he sounds a little unsure, so Sehun opens his eyes to look up at him and nod, even though he’s not so certain that he is.

 

The other man is hovering near the couch, jacket slung over one arm, and a little hesitant, as if he’s not sure whether to leave just yet. And Sehun doesn’t want Kyungsoo to think he’s freaking out (even though he kind of is), so he hauls himself up into a sitting position, and tries not to look so shell-shocked.

 

But then he can feel Kyungsoo’s come moving inside him disgustingly when he shifts, and he just happens to be looking up at the other man when the full weight of what they’ve just done crashes into him.

 

He doesn’t know what his face must look like, but something unreadable flickers over Kyungsoo’s for the briefest moment.

 

“I’m going to leave now,” he says slowly, and there might be a touch of worry in his voice but it’s not like Sehun’s responding at all now – not even nodding as he gets a little lost in his own thoughts because he just _slept_ with a _customer_.

 

(And it was amazing – but that’s not what his mind’s choosing to focus on right at the moment.)

 

Kyungsoo shrugs on his jacket and then pauses, looking back at Sehun once more. Then he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and takes out a wad of bills, placing them gently down on the coffee table before he leans forward to peck Sehun on the cheek.

 

Sehun hardly registers anything – not the money, not the kiss – and then Kyungsoo’s gone, brushing past the curtain and disappearing from his sight completely.

 

When he finally comes to his senses a few minutes later, he’s frustrated, because he wants to offer Kyungsoo an explanation, but he doesn’t even know how to _begin_ to explain.

 

But hell, he doesn’t just do this with… anyone. Let alone customers. Let alone strangers.

 

And Kyungsoo must be some kind of special to be the first.

 

But now he’s gone and he didn’t even leave a number. All Sehun has is a first name and a face, and that’s not enough to find a person in a city as big as Seoul.

 

He hangs his head in his hands and rubs at his temples. After a moment, he gets up, gets himself dressed, and comes to a decision.

 

If Kyungsoo comes back to the club, he’ll explain himself, and that’s terrifying.

 

But in the much more likely case that he never sees the man again, he’ll just have to convince himself to get over it and forget.

 

And somehow that’s worse.

 

He straightens up after pulling on his boots and checks himself over to make sure he’s presentable again. His hair is a mess but his hand is still sticky from the come he just wiped off of it, so he doesn’t even try to fix it.

 

Belatedly, he picks up the money from the coffee table and counts it.

 

There’s five times too much for the cost of a lap dance.

 

 


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jongin has a dirty mind, Kyungsoo is just trying to destress, and Sehun has some trouble remembering where he draws the line of professionalism.

 

 

He ends up seeing Kyungsoo again a little over month later, but it has nothing to do with _Club Exotica_ at all this time.

 

After a late night studying with a group on campus, Sehun decides he’s too lazy to cook anything and heads off to a samgyeopsal place nearby that he and Jongin sometimes frequent. It’s a little on the cheap side, and the kitchen hygiene standards are probably questionable, but the ahjumma who runs it always gives him and Jongin extra for free because they’re ‘still growing’.

 

Jongin has bailed on him tonight because he has some huge project for one of his other classes he’s been procrastinating for weeks. When Sehun had called earlier the other had sounded exhausted, told him his body was running solely on caffeine, and Sehun decides he can eat out alone for once, and not hold it against him if he’s _that_ stressed.

 

He pushes open the door to the restaurant, glad to get inside and away from the drizzle that’s just started up outside. The old hinges squeak loudly in protest, causing the few patrons already there to glance up at his arrival.

 

And usually he wouldn’t pay them any mind, but how can he not when _Kyungsoo’s_ here, looking seriously out of place in another polished suit and tie where he sits in one of the booths.

 

Recognition flickers over the other’s face, but then he quickly looks back down at the menu in his hands, as if pretending he didn’t see Sehun when he came in, that they didn’t make eye contact, and that they don’t know each other at all.

 

And it’s nice, because he’s giving Sehun an out. An opportunity to turn around and leave and never deal with this situation again in his life.

 

For a moment, he considers doing just that. But then he can’t really pretend that this hasn’t been eating away at him for the past month, so instead, he takes a deep breath and approaches the other man’s table.

 

“Can I sit?” he asks shyly, and Kyungsoo looks surprised when he looks up and sees who it is. He recovers quickly though, and nods, gesturing for him to take a seat.

 

Their conversation is put on hold then, because the ahjumma has just noticed his arrival and bustles out of the kitchen to greet him and take their order. She’s friendly and warm as usual, berates Sehun for not visiting in so long, and then turns her attention to Kyungsoo, asking whether he’s a friend of his.

 

Sehun just smiles and nods. It’s easier than trying to explain, even if he _did_ think the ahjumma wanted to be privy to his sex life.

 

“So do you usually approach your customers when you see them in public, or am I special?” Kyungsoo asks when she leaves, a small smile still playing on his face from the exchange he just witnessed.

 

“Honestly this is the first time it’s ever happened,” Sehun answers, with a little, bashful laugh. “It’s not like the club’s clientele hang around the same parts as me very much."

 

It’s only an explanation as much as it’s a question about what Kyungsoo’s doing here too. Because what business does a rich lawyer have eating out in an area that’s mostly a hangout for broke college kids anyway?

 

“If you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” Kyungsoo begins, and he does look a little tired tonight. “I just tend to need a change of scenery every now and again. I think if I see another person in a suit today, I’ll scream.”

 

Sehun laughs at that, light and easy, and before he can stop himself he finds himself asking: “Is this another of your ways to destress?”

 

But the laugh dies in his throat at the same time that Kyungsoo’s eyes flash a little dangerously, because _oh_ , now he’s remembering.

 

Remembering that night and that conversation. Remembering Sehun on his lap and then… more.

 

“Something like that,” Kyungsoo replies, but his voice is lower and _different_. Sehun suddenly needs something to do with his hands, so he starts fiddling with the salt shaker, his cheeks feeling warm as he stares down at the table top.

 

It’s explanation time.

 

“You know I… I don’t usually –” he pauses to rearrange his thoughts and force himself to look up at Kyungsoo now. The other has his head tilted slightly to the side, watching him curiously across the table. “I’ve never done that before. Slept with a customer, I mean.”

 

Kyungsoo pauses to absorb this new information, nodding to himself once.

 

“You did kind of space out on me afterwards. Now that I know it’s because of that I…” he trails off, looking down at the table with a small frown. “I was worried I’d pressured you into something you didn’t want to do.”

 

“I wanted it,” Sehun replies quickly, shaking his head. He can’t quite meet Kyungsoo’s eyes because he _knows_ he’s blushing. “I’m just not sure what came over me that night. That’s not very… like me.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t immediately reply because in the next moment the ahjumma has returned with their drinks. He smiles up at her with a polite _“thank you”,_ and Sehun has to put up with having his hair ruffled before she leaves again.

 

“So…” Kyungsoo begins after he sips his drink, setting it down on the table with a _click_. “Where does that leave us then?”

 

Sehun pauses to raise his own glass to his lips, thinking his answer through before he opens his mouth to speak.

 

“I wasn’t professional that night, and I’m sorry. But more importantly… you should know that I wasn’t just doing it for the money,” Sehun says, playing with the condensation running down the side of his glass.

 

“Meaning?”

 

He blushes anew, embarrassed, but soldiers on regardless.

 

“Meaning I did it because I,” – oh god does he have to? “liked you. I’m… interested in you. As more than just a customer.”

 

Kyungsoo takes so long to reply that Sehun ends up peeking across at him in the end. He’s resting his cheek on one palm now, watching Sehun with a soft smile.

 

“Let me pay for your meal then,” he says eventually. “Since we’re both already here, this can be a date, of sorts.”

 

Sehun’s heart skips a beat.

 

“You want to?” he smiles, self-consciously. “I’m kind of different to the person I am at the club, in real life.”

 

“Then I’ll get to know this side of you,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “I’m interested in you too, you know.”

 

Sehun can’t stop his smile from growing, just a little.

 

“Fine. Alright.” He nods to himself, and the lets the last of his doubt fade away. “Then let’s start over. My name’s Sehun, by the way. My real one, that is.”

 

“Do Kyungsoo,” the other replies with a smirk, extending a hand across the table to take Sehun’s and shake. He wrinkles his nose when he next speaks. “And that’s good because I really didn’t think Willis suited you.”

 

Sehun barks out a surprised laugh so loud that a couple of the other customers pause in their quiet conversations to look round at him curiously. He sinks a little lower in his seat, trying to smother his giggles, and Kyungsoo just watches him fondly.

 

“Why stripping?” He suddenly asks, and the rest of Sehun’s laughter dies an early death. Kyungsoo notices the change in demeanour immediately, and starts to backtrack. “Oh no, is that personal? I’m sorry I –”

 

“It is,” Sehun cuts him off, straightening up. “A little. But you’ll find out soon enough anyway. I might as well tell you now.”

 

Kyungsoo nods to show he’s listening, and Sehun looks down at his hands and takes a deep breath before he starts.

 

“My parents kicked me out when I told them I was gay,” he begins, and that little twinge of pain that comes with talking about it is still there, always. “I was nineteen, in my first year of college, had never worked a day in my life, and suddenly I was homeless.”

 

Kyungsoo’s face is twisted with sympathy when he looks up, and even though he knows this is definitely oversharing for a first date, it makes him think the other isn’t weirded out or put off by it.

 

“I slept on friends’ couches for the first couple months, because I couldn’t believe it had actually happened. I just kept waiting for my mom to call and tell me to come home, but she never did.”

 

He pauses, because something touches his hand just then, and when he looks down, Kyungsoo’s extended his own, just to overlap their fingertips. Sehun’s timid when he looks back up, and Kyungsoo smiles at him gently, making his insides all giddy.

 

It’s fucking ridiculous. Ridiculous that the smallest, most innocent touch from a man who’s already seen him naked can make him blush like a twelve-year-old.

 

“When reality finally hit me and I pulled myself together, I had bills,” Sehun continues, staring down at where their fingers touch. “Rent. Electricity. Water. Not to mention my student loans – nothing comes cheap these days. I needed a job, and nothing I could do part-time while still going to class seemed to pay enough.”

 

“So you decided to become a stripper?” Kyungsoo asks now, and he still looks perfectly interested in the conversation, like he isn’t bored or annoyed by Sehun’s sob story.

 

“Well I have a friend. Jongin. He’s Kai, actually, the one who performed with me,” Sehun interjects, when he remembers Kyungsoo saw him too, on the night they met. Something strange flickers over the other’s face, but it’s so brief that Sehun can’t help but let it slide. “And _he_ introduced me to it. I already knew how to dance, and when he told me how much he made per night, I was sold.”

 

They lapse into silence once Sehun finishes his story, Kyungsoo seeming to need a moment to digest what he’s just been told.

 

“Sehun,” he begins, looking up at him with an expression so apologetic that Sehun doesn’t think there’s any way Kyungsoo could merely be faking his interest. It’s a nice feeling. “It’s really awful that happened to you. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “It’s been two years since then. Of course, I wish it didn’t have to happen in the first place, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to.”

 

He laughs then, a little self-depreciatively, to break the tension.

 

“In fact, _I’m_ sorry I had to bring it up. I’ve ruined the mood.”

 

“Don’t apologise,” Kyungsoo says, and for a moment, his hand moves to engulf one of Sehun’s own and squeeze reassuringly. “I’m not going to run away or lose interest, if that’s what you think.”

 

Sehun smiles gratefully across at him, but he’s stopped from responding when the food comes, and Kyungsoo pulls his hand away. They both thank the ahjumma, and then for a while, the conversation is completely side-tracked as they bicker over who should grill the meat, Kyungsoo insisting despite weak protests from Sehun that he’s the younger of the two.

 

Kyungsoo gets his way in the end, and once he has the meat sizzling on the grill, occasionally turning each piece with the tongs, he gets back to their previous topic.

 

“So do you… not like stripping at all?” Kyungsoo asks, glancing up at him briefly, but too busy with his task to maintain eye contact. “Or did you end up liking it in the end?”

 

“It’s a job,” Sehun replies, watching as the meat spits and sizzles in front of him, slowly turning brown. “There are good days and bad days, but it’s not like I imagine myself being so much happier doing something else. The stigma sucks of course, but I don’t feel like I’ve been forced into it, or that it’s my only option, if that’s what you mean.”

 

“That’s good,” Kyungsoo replies, and the meat seems to be done, so he carefully constructs a lettuce wrap, and holds it out across the table with his chopsticks for Sehun to eat. He starts making another one while the younger chews, and when he next speaks, his voice is a little hesitant. “Can I ask a question?”

 

Sehun swallows his food.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You and K– Uhh, Jongin,” he starts, looking a little like he thinks he shouldn’t ask. “Are you close?”

 

For a moment, Sehun is confused, because didn’t he just tell Kyungsoo they were friends? But then he remembers that the night they met he and Jongin _literally_ made out onstage in front of him, and realisation dawns with a little chuckle.

 

“Yes,” he laughs. “We’re best friends. But you don’t have to look so jealous – Jongin’s straight as a board.”

 

Well… he might not be. Sehun has his suspicions. But it’s not like Kyungsoo needs to know that.

 

“Who said I was jealous?” Kyungsoo rebuffs, but he looks both amused and reassured, and Sehun lets it slide.

 

“I’ve been talking all night,” he changes the topic, pausing to let Kyungsoo feed him another lettuce wrap. “Tell me a bit about _you_ now.”

 

“Well,” Kyungsoo starts, trailing off to chew and swallow his own food. “I’m not that interesting I guess.”

 

Sehun snorts.

 

“Yeah you’re _only_ rich and attractive,” he drawls, rolling his eyes, and Kyungsoo kicks him lightly under the table, even as he grins.

 

“Okay, fine. My name’s Do Kyungsoo, I’m soon to turn thirty-two, and I’m a corporate lawyer,” Kyungsoo says, listing off each point on his fingers as he speaks. “Most people find my job boring, but I like it even though it’s a little stressful. I’m currently extremely single, have way too much disposable income, and am looking for someone new and exciting to share my life with.”

 

He ends off with a pointed look at Sehun that makes him blush for what must be the millionth time that evening as he smiles down at the table top.

 

“You don’t look your age,” he says, when he recovers from playing the part of a bashful twelve-year-old yet again, and looks up.

 

“I’ve been told,” Kyungsoo replies, a little disgruntled. “I have a friend who always tells me I’m ‘cute’, and that I look twenty. But he’s an idiot.”

 

Sehun can’t help but chuckle at the look on his face, but he makes a mental note in the meantime.

 

Kyungsoo does not like to be called _cute_ , apparently.

 

“I mean you’re ten years older than me,” he says, and when he really thinks about that, it sobers him up a little, his laughter fading quickly. “I didn’t realise.”

 

“Is that a problem?” Kyungsoo asks, but it’s in such a way that Sehun feels like both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ are viable choices here. Like Kyungsoo really just wants to know, and won’t get mad if it is, in fact, a problem.

 

Sehun weighs his options for a moment. But in the end, he’s a consenting adult even if he’s young, and he’s hardly ever interested in anyone in the first place.

 

And he really does _like_ Kyungsoo.

 

“Not really, I guess” he shrugs. “I was just a little shocked.”

 

“Understandable.” And Kyungsoo seems satisfied.

 

A while later sees them still sitting at the same table, even though the other customers have all left by now. The dishes are cleared and the bill is paid, and they’re just finishing up the last of their drinks together, a quiet hush in the conversation overtaking them.

 

It’s late on a weeknight and Sehun has class tomorrow. He should probably get going, but doesn’t really want to – not with the way Kyungsoo’s holding his hand properly now, lightly stroking over his knuckles with the pad of a thumb every now and again.

 

He’s not drunk, but pleasantly sated, muscles eased and relaxed with a couple of drinks, and the kind of sleepy-full that makes everything seem softer in the dimly lit restaurant. Like someone’s gone along with a paintbrush and fuzzed up all of the edges in his mind’s eye, made the world around him more yielding, less harsh.

 

“Sehun-ah,” Kyungsoo blinks slowly, breaking the silence. And even _he_ looks a little easier on the eyes in this light. Sehun is struck with the sudden urge to cling to him and cuddle. “I’m not sure if I should even bring this up on the first date, but…”

 

He trails off, and Sehun has to connect-the-dots in his sleepy, satisfied brain to make his mouth move and say the right words.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Remember back in the club, when I said I could buy you things and take you places?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Well I was serious about that,” Kyungsoo stops and rubs his eyes with his free hand. “We can have that kind of relationship, if you want.”

 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks, confused.

 

“I mean I can buy you all the things you can’t afford, and take you to all the places you’ve never been,” Kyungsoo pauses, hesitant. “I can even pay your bills for you. It’s not like I can’t afford it.”

 

Sehun frowns, the realisation dawning on him slowly.

 

“Why would you do that for me?”

 

“Because I like you,” Kyungsoo’s mouth quirks. “But there is one thing you could do for me in return, if you’d consider it.”

 

“And that is?”

 

Kyungsoo is silent for a moment, just staring at where he runs his thumb back and forth over Sehun’s knuckles, again and again.

 

“You know, I might not seem like it, but I’m the type of person who gets jealous easily,” Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow a little, and he takes a breath. “Even thinking about your friend, Jongin, just knowing you’ve made out with him before… even though I know it’s nothing it still makes me angry.”

 

“There’s nothing between –” Sehun goes to interrupt, but Kyungsoo holds up a hand to show that he’s not finished.

 

“I know there isn’t, but even that doesn’t help.” He picks up his glass and knocks the rest of his drink back, hissing as the liquid slides down his throat. “You see, if this relationship goes anywhere, I can’t promise you that somewhere down the line we’re not gonna have a huge fight about your job. Because I can’t pretend it doesn’t make me jealous – you grinding up on strangers and taking your clothes off for other people. It definitely does.”

 

Sehun takes a moment to absorb all of what Kyungsoo’s saying to him. When he next speaks, his voice is guarded.

 

“What are you trying to say to me?”

 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s lost a suitor to petty jealousy over what he does at work.

 

“Just…” Kyungsoo seems to be trying to choose his words carefully. “Maybe it would be easier if you quit your job. Let me take care of your expenses.”

 

Sehun’s eyelashes flutter as it hits him, and the final puzzle piece clicks into place.

 

“Are you asking to become my sugar daddy?” He asks, looking at Kyungsoo with his brows drawn together in a swirl of complex emotion.

 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo pauses, letting it sink in. For both of them. “I guess I am.”

 

“Oh.”

 

And Sehun doesn’t know quite _what_ to think about that.

 

“You could get another job. A different one. If that would make you more comfortable with the arrangement,” Kyungsoo suggests when Sehun seems to take extra-long to digest this new development.

 

When he comes to his senses, he curls his hand back, just a little, until he and Kyungsoo are no longer touching.

 

“Is it because I’m a stripper?” He’s looking down, voice tight. “Is that why you think I’m only after your money?”

 

“Not at all,” Kyungsoo soothes, trying to reach forward and take his hand again. The other evades. “Sehun,” he says, when Sehun takes his hands off the table completely. Then: “Look at me.”

 

Sehun presses his mouth into a thin line, then looks up, cautious.

 

“I _don’t_ think that,” Kyungsoo says slowly, like he’s trying to make his words abundantly clear. “I don’t think you approached me for money, and it’s not like I don’t genuinely like you too, you know. But this kind of relationship can be… fun. For both of us.”

 

Sehun’s expression lifts a little, but he’s still unsure.

 

“C’mon,” Kyungsoo urges, and his hand is still outstretched, waiting. “Wouldn’t it be nice not having to work so hard? To have someone else pay for once?”

 

And Sehun’s traitorous, material little heart flutters against his ribcage in agreement. He _does_ really like expensive things…

 

“But,” he still protests, even as he surrenders his hand to Kyungsoo’s grasp once more. “What’s in it for you?”

 

Kyungsoo smiles to himself a little privately, and Sehun’s just too confused about everything to figure out what that means.

 

“I like to take good care of my…” he stops here, searching for the right word. “Lovers. I won’t force you to do anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

Sehun’s shoulders slowly relax, his mind racing as he lapses into silence and thinks about what he’s just been offered.

 

“I… I don’t know,” he answers honestly, after a moment. But even Kyungsoo must be able to see he’s been swayed a little, because the other smiles indulgently.

 

“It’s fine,” he answers, his eyes smouldering as he strokes over Sehun’s knuckles again, gently. “You don’t have to decide now. Think about it for a while. Sleep on it. I’m a patient man.”

 

“Alright,” Sehun says. It’s just so late, and he’s so sleepy, Kyungsoo’s eyes so inviting, the calloused brushes of his thumb so comforting, and Sehun can’t help but feel his defences slip with the other man’s next words.

 

“In the meantime, we can take things slow.”

 

Maybe it’s dumb, because technically, he’s only just met Kyungsoo properly for the first time, and he doesn’t even really know the man. But Sehun feels safe and secure in that moment, the dull, warm lighting of the restaurant casting the perfect, hazy ambience upon the scene, and before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself agreeing.

 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding along dumbly. “Taking things slow. Sounds good.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Thirty minutes later he’s slammed up against his own front door as Kyungsoo kisses a trail of heat up the side of his neck.

 

Sehun can hear his own low, breathy moans disturbing the silence of the apartment, and as he paws blindly at the wall behind him to find the light switch, he’s just extremely grateful that he doesn’t have a roommate to piss off at this particular moment.

 

It was raining properly when they left the restaurant, so Kyungsoo insisted on driving him home in nothing other than a sleek, black Mercedes that had been parked just round the corner. And then Sehun, knowing full well what would become of it, had decided to invite him in. So now he’s here, pinned against the door as Kyungsoo mutters “where’s your bedroom?” into his jawline.

 

So much for taking things slow.

 

He’s quick to push Kyungsoo off and take him by the hand to lead him through the apartment. Because honestly, the other looks five seconds away from snapping and fucking him on the living room sofa instead. Hazy flashbacks from a month ago remind Sehun that last time they did that, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

 

They have to stop as they pass through the kitchen for Kyungsoo to close him in against the counter, fingers working on the buttons of his shirt even as he kisses him. It’s a little uncomfortable because of how much taller Sehun is, how he has to hunch himself down for Kyungsoo to get at his mouth, but then – Kyungsoo’s lips are plump and soft as they devour him, both hungry and gentle at the same time, and Sehun finds he doesn’t really care. Soft sparks fill his mind, clouding it with arousal, and it’s with desperate, shaky hands that he manages to push off of the counter and set them both back onto the precarious path towards his bedroom.

 

Strong hands brush his shirt back over broad shoulders, and the garment ends up discarded somewhere between the kitchen and the living room right before he’s pushed up against the back of the couch. His knees buckle as he fights a losing battle with Kyungsoo’s tie, both of their breathing loud and hurried in the darkened apartment.

 

Kyungsoo’s jacket hits the floor right before his hands return to unzip Sehun’s fly with one short, sharp sound. The younger grunts when his jeans are pulled down, the fabric dragging against his straining erection torturously, and Kyungsoo lets out a deep, throaty chuckle before he leans up to suck a dark hickey onto the sensitive part of Sehun’s neck, making him squirm.

 

Sehun manages to abandon his jeans somewhere near the couch, and both of their pairs of shoes end up strewn haphazardly throughout the hallway. A second after he’s finally guided the two of them – still grasping at each other and very much attached – through to his bedroom, he’s spun around and pushed over, back hitting the mattress with a soft _thump_. Kyungsoo’s on him in no time, tracing the outlines of his bare abs with hot breaths that make his muscles tense with anticipation.

 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes, right before he kisses Sehun’s skin, the press of a warm mouth against his abdomen making him curl in on himself, and release a soft _huff_ of air that leaves him winded.

 

“Take your shirt off,” Sehun whines in response, because he’s impatient and desperate, and Kyungsoo’s still wearing _far_ too much for him not to take offense. Last time, he didn’t even take off his clothes, and Sehun’s damned if he’s going to let tonight be a repeat of that.

 

Kyungsoo smirks as he stands up and undoes the tie that Sehun’s already managed to loosen. And it’s just so sexy, plays into every fantasy Sehun won’t admit he has about being dominated so _nicely_ , that he finds himself panting and out of breath as the older’s buttons come undone and more and more of his bare skin comes into view.

 

He doesn’t get as long to admire a now shirtless Kyungsoo as he’d like, because as soon as the shirt’s off, Kyungsoo bends down to make a play for Sehun’s boxers, and most of what he’s admiring disappears from view. But he does rather like what he sees – Kyungsoo’s a healthy weight and lightly toned. No bodybuilder, for sure, but it’s not as if that’s Sehun’s type anyway, and his stomach swoops with want at the sight of well-defined pecs and thick shoulders.

 

Kyungsoo pulls up the elastic band of his boxers now, causing his cock to pull back with it and smack against his stomach when it comes loose. He chuckles for the second time since entering the apartment when the action makes Sehun jolt and utter a soft _“fuck”_ under his breath.

 

But then Sehun’s cursing louder, because Kyungsoo doesn’t even bother pulling off his boxers before he takes him into his mouth, merely hooking them down under his length and sinking those plush lips down his cock, tongue working the head with loud, obscene slurping noises.

 

“Kyungsoo,” Sehun moans emphatically at the sudden hot, wet heat engulfing him. He struggles, clawing at the sheets as the other man sucks around his shaft deliciously, but when Kyungsoo hums, the vibrations from his throat maddening, he can’t control his voice, or stop his hands from landing in short, dark hair. “Kyungsoo, _oh_!”

 

But Kyungsoo doesn’t stop, sinking right down until the head of Sehun’s cock hits the back of his throat and swallows. Sehun’s never experienced anything like this before, seeing as he’s pretty big and none of his previous partners could fit that much in, but the thought is lost on him as he chokes on an overload of pleasure, messing up the sheets from thrashing around too much.

 

Besides. He’s not exactly thinking about any of his past lovers right _now_.

 

Not when Kyungsoo just keeps on swallowing, doesn’t seem to need to come up for air even when Sehun pulls his hair so hard that the little voice of reason in the back of his mind worries he might rip it right out. It’s too intense for him, the way the pleasure builds up so quickly, and every muscle in his body coils tight, straining to keep the inevitable rush and release back, but it builds and builds in Sehun’s veins until –

 

“Kyungsoo I’m gonna –”

 

It’s then that Kyungsoo pulls off a moment too soon, leaving his body thrumming and screaming to be touched. Sehun bites his lip and tosses his head back into the pillows with a desperate, disappointed little groan.

 

“Not yet,” Kyungsoo tells him, voice a little hoarse now, but dark with arousal as he pulls off Sehun’s boxers completely. The other just lets him, sinking into the sheets as he comes down from his almost-high, still frustratingly turned on and achingly hard. Then: “Can you get on your knees for me baby?”

 

The words cause a hot spike in his arousal, nearly making him come right there and then from how close to the edge he is. He has to close his eyes momentarily and take a deep breath before getting up and complying, listening to the sound of Kyungsoo’s belt-buckle hit the floor, and, as he drops to his knees on the mattress, a zipper being pulled down and fabric falling to the carpet.

 

Then there’s warm, bare skin brushing the backs of his thighs and an erection poking into his ass. Hands smooth up his sides, strong and possessive, and then a chest presses into his back for Kyungsoo to lean down and whisper a word into his ear that feels like warmth and seduction, and sounds a lot like: “Lube?”

 

“Nightstand. Top drawer.” Sehun can’t stop his voice from shaking.

 

Kyungsoo withdraws from blanketing him with his chest when he gets up to retrieve the small bottle, and Sehun’s body is still too excited, too shaky and feverish with everything that’s happening. He drops his head to pillow on his arms and catch his breath, but if Kyungsoo’s deep growl when he turns around and takes in this new position – head down, back arched, ass up – is anything to go by, he looks even more debauched now, like this.

 

When Kyungsoo gets back to him the first thing he feels is hands – fingers and palms sliding across sensitive skin until they’re both cupping his ass and gripping a little. With fingers flexing firm against him, the other leans down again to speak gruffly into his ear: “I know I told you last time, but you really do have an amazing ass.”

 

Sehun hums in response, mind too hazy to grasp the words and focus on them, body anxious and eager enough to have him reciting silent prayers for Kyungsoo to hurry the fuck up.

 

But instead of hearing the squirt of lube, or feeling wet fingers at his entrance, he feels Kyungsoo shift behind him and then –

 

A soft kiss pressed to his left ass-cheek makes him gasp into his arms, the sound turning into a rapid blubber of complaint as Kyungsoo takes a bite and tugs the flesh back with his teeth. It’s a little painful, but not an unpleasant sensation with the way it adds an extra edge to all the things he’s feeling right now – he’s just annoyed that Kyungsoo seems to think he can take his time when Sehun is _literally_ about to start begging for it.

 

He tosses his head and fusses a bit more when Kyungsoo gives the same treatment to the other ass-cheek, but doubly slow. Sehun has to turn around and warn the other with look and a low _“Kyungsoo,”_ before he finally relents with a smirk, and Sehun feels him straighten up, hears a bottle being squeezed. With one hand parting the same ass-cheeks he just kissed, Kyungsoo reaches forward to circle his rim with a wet finger, making Sehun’s toes curl as he tenses.

 

“Start with two,” he tells him, hoping it will hurry Kyungsoo the hell up. The other complies almost immediately, and Sehun sinks down into his arms as he gets used to the feeling, the stretch and minor burn that always comes with being touched so intimately.

 

He hasn’t exactly gotten any action since he last saw Kyungsoo, but it’s not like Sehun’s particularly delicate or breakable. Kyungsoo’s quick to work him four fingers full, obviously taking pleasure in stretching him properly like he couldn’t last time – humming in appreciation of every time Sehun shifts or sighs, fingers curling and stretching and scissoring until Sehun himself decides it’s enough and reaches back to pull his hand out.

 

“Alright?” Kyungsoo asks as he coats his cock with lube and lines up, the head throbbing and heavy as it rests against Sehun’s entrance. He feels another wave of heat rush through him, and has to take a deep breath before he can answer.

 

“Yeah.”

 

The sheets are getting sticky with sweat and humidity and it’s uncomfortable, so Sehun props himself up on his elbows as Kyungsoo pushes in. It’s quick and fluid but not particularly painful – not with how much lube Kyungsoo’s used and the lingering comparison in the back of Sehun’s mind to _last time_ , when the sting was much, much worse.

 

The other still waits for him to adjust anyway, but it seems to be hardest for _Kyungsoo_ to bear out of the two of them, if the way he drops his head, hair tickling the back of Sehun’s neck, is anything to go by.

 

“Still alive?” he tries to joke, but it’s so obviously through gritted teeth that Sehun takes pity on him and nods, telling him to move.

 

Sehun’s back arches with the stretch when Kyungsoo pulls out, biting his lip when he feels breath stutter across his shoulder blades, feels him slide back into him.

 

Kyungsoo’s arms have come to rest on either side of his torso now, just behind Sehun’s own, and as he continues at a stuttered and jolting pace, the older drops a bite onto one of his shoulders, making Sehun let out a little whine at the tiny flare of pain.

 

“Kyungsoo,” he says, turning around, bleary-eyed, to get the other’s attention. Kyungsoo catches him by the chin, turning his face around to push their foreheads together and pant heavily across his face.

 

“Call me daddy,” he says, instead of replying, and _that_ makes Sehun whimper, closing his eyes to the rush of excitement that washes through his body in reaction to the words.

 

“Daddy,” he says, after a moment spent calming himself down. Kyungsoo curses under his breath, sweat dripping down his temples, and pausing after a particularly unsteady thrust. “Faster.”

 

The man behind him presses a heavy kiss to his lips, then one more to the back of a neck that’s now damp with sweat as he straightens, adjusting their positions for a moment and making sure he has a good grip on Sehun’s hips.

 

“With pleasure.”

 

And with that, Kyungsoo quickens his pace, hips snapping forward against Sehun so relentlessly that he has to brace himself by clawing at the bedsheets to prevent from being knocked onto his face, the obscene sounds of skin on skin and the squelch of too much lube loud in the quiet apartment.

 

Sehun belatedly remembers they don’t have to be concerned with noise this time, and the thought comes right before he lets out a short, sharp wail when Kyungsoo hits his prostate, trailing off into a sustained series of vibrant curse words as the other continues to pound into the same spot, over and over again.

 

“Is it,” Kyungsoo stops mid-sentence to swallow, his breath rough when he catches it. “Is it good?”

 

And by now Sehun’s eyes are screwed tightly shut, his teeth clenched to stop them clacking painfully together every time Kyungsoo pounds into him, but he still manages to turn his head ever so slightly and grit out: “Yes.” A pause. A flickering of eyes and lashes. “Daddy.”

 

The new name seems most effective, since Kyungsoo moans loud enough that Sehun, were he in a rational state of mind, would worry about woken neighbours and noise complaints. But since he isn’t, he just whimpers at the impossibly increased pace, loses his grip on the sheets and falls forward. He doesn’t even bother to catch himself, forehead pressed into the mattress and chafing every time another thrust shoves him forward towards the headboard.

 

And usually, Sehun’s not too vocal in bed, since it takes a lot to get him to moan outright. But right now, with Kyungsoo fucking him relentlessly into his own mattress, with arousal and humidity turning his bedroom into a damn sauna, he can’t stop the volley of small, desperate noises from clawing their way up his throat.

 

He’s hardly that audible above the sound of the headboard smacking against the wall repeatedly, but with the way the pressure in his abdomen is increasing, tightening into a thousand little knots that scream to be undone, he can’t help but voice out his pleasure a little louder, attempt to smother those same noises into the sheets and pillows in front of him.

 

Sehun doesn’t warn Kyungsoo when he comes. Because amidst the euphoria that rips through him, his thighs shaking and back arching, his orgasm renders him completely non-verbal aside from the long, low moan that’s drawn out and so wanton. With vision going white and body sagging, he vaguely registers the grip on his hips tighten, fingers digging into his skin with bruising force as Kyungsoo fights to keep him up and continue thrusting.

 

He’s completely over-sensitized when Kyungsoo comes inside of him, a loud groan cutting through Sehun’s fuzzy consciousness and bringing him back down to reality. Kyungsoo stills for a moment, and when Sehun finds the energy to lift his head and glance back, the other pulls out with gritted teeth, his cock beginning to soften as he collapses onto the bed next to him.

 

For a while, there is nothing but the decrease of rapid breathing, sweat cooling on exhausted bodies, heartbeats returning to normal, and the vague sensation of a blanket being pulled over his sticky skin. After a moment, Kyungsoo speaks.

 

“Well that was,” he pauses, catching a breath as Sehun rolls tiredly onto his side to face him. “Something.”

 

Sehun hums in agreement, his eyes slipping closed. He’s so sleepy, sated, and relaxed, and unlike last time, his mind is at peace now, no inner turmoil to ruin his afterglow.

 

His mind starts to lose its hold on consciousness right as he hears Kyungsoo take a breath as if to say something else. Sehun lifts a finger and blindly tries to press it to Kyungsoo’s lips, brushing his nose first and then the corner of his mouth, before settling on his intended destination.

 

“Ssh,” Sehun scolds, sounding nothing convincing in his sleepy mumble. “Go to sleep hyung.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, light and easy. It’s right before he drifts off for real that he catches his next words, murmured against the skin of his finger.

 

“Oh, I’m your _hyung_ now, am I?”

 

But the affectionate gaze and fingers running through his hair are lost on him as he slips off to dream land. By the time Kyungsoo settles into the blankets properly, Sehun is fast asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest a contrast to everything they did earlier, so fast-paced.

 

It’s quiet in the apartment. And tonight, the man who was, just three hours ago, nothing more than a hazy one night stand and a stranger he’d never see again, wraps his arms around him and holds him tight, falling asleep next to him like there’s hope.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Sehun wakes up he’s missed half of his first class, and is way too lazy and tired to rush to get to the second. So instead, he takes up Kyungsoo’s offer of joining him in the shower, which inevitably makes _him_ late for work, and Sehun give up on getting to campus any time before noon.

 

When he’s finally gotten his life together it’s nearly lunch time, so he texts Jongin to meet him at a café halfway between campus and his apartment, throws on some shades, and drags his ass outside into the sunshine.

 

Which explains why the other’s now sitting across a table from him, practically inhaling a plate of chicken wings, and offhandedly asking: “Where were you this morning? I didn’t see you in class.”

 

“Well,” Sehun replies carefully, sipping his coffee. “I actually want to talk about that.”

 

Jongin raises an expectant eyebrow to show he’s listening, but otherwise still looks more interested in his food than in Sehun.

 

“So I,” Sehun pauses, fiddling with his napkin. He’s a little nervous, but if anyone’s going to judge him, it’s not Jongin. “I slept with a customer.”

 

Jongin pauses too now, chicken wing stopping halfway on its path towards his mouth, and regards Sehun with careful surprise.

 

“About a month ago,” Sehun elaborates, clearing his throat, and hoping that the blush he feels creeping up his neck is nothing but his imagination. “In the club.”

 

Jongin takes a moment to put down the chicken wing. It seems his attention is effectively caught now.

 

“ _You_ did?”

 

“Yes,” Sehun picks at his own food. “Is that bad?”

 

“No. No it’s… not.” Jongin stops here with a slight frown, gathering his thoughts. “There are a couple other dancers who offer… _extras_ in the VIP. Most of them don’t, but not everyone’s a stickler for the rules.”

 

“Oh.” Sehun can’t think of what else to say, but he _is_ relieved Jongin’s not freaking out on him, even if he didn’t expect him to.

 

“I’m just surprised because it’s you,” Jongin smiles a little now, taking another bite of his food. “’Cos unlike the rest of us you actually manage to maintain your purity despite the job.”

 

Sehun snorts into his coffee.

 

“I didn’t do it for the money,” he says, after a moment’s silence. Jongin looks up from his food in interest. “I actually… liked him?”

 

“Now that’s a surprise.” Jongin knows better than anyone about how hard it is to catch Sehun’s attention, and how much harder it is to keep. “So, what does this all have to do with you missing class this morning?”

 

And damn if a million little images don’t bubble up to the surface of Sehun’s mind: of being undressed by another pair of hands, of a dark head of hair contrasting against the pale skin of his hipbones, of teeth and soft lips against the back of his shoulders. Of this morning in the shower when he dropped to his knees in front of Kyungsoo, the tiles cold and biting, and the trails of water running down his face making him splutter and choke twice as much as he normally would have.

 

“I saw him again last night,” Sehun tells Jongin now, pushing aside his less than appropriate thoughts for the moment. “It was by pure chance, but he was at the samgyeopsal place too.”

 

Jongin watches him from across the table in silence, and Sehun can practically _hear_ the cogs in his mind turning.

 

“You slept with him again,” he eventually concludes, and Sehun wonders if it’s because Jongin’s smart, or if he’s just easy to read.

 

“And again this morning,” he admits, face colouring.

 

“I was wondering what that mark on your neck was,” Jongin laughs, but it’s not malicious. Just friendly, conversational, and Sehun is yet again finding reasons to be grateful for his best friend. “Well this is new. Are you going to see him again?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“What’s he like?”

 

“Older. Rich.”

 

Jongin furrows his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

 

“It’s not…” Sehun pauses to sip his coffee again. “He’s nice too. Really sweet. It’s not like I’m after his money or anything.”

 

“And then? Why do you seem so reluctant about the whole thing?”

 

Sehun blanches a little. He didn’t realise he was being that obvious.

 

“He… made me an offer.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“He said if I quit working at the club, he’d pay my bills and stuff. Buy me things too.”

 

“Like a sugar daddy?” Jongin looks up briefly between mouthfuls, but otherwise doesn’t seem too bothered.

 

“Yeah.”

 

And the other doesn’t even blink, not missing a beat when he asks: “So are you going to do it?”

 

Sehun draws up short, a little taken aback by Jongin’s nonchalance.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Jongin is quiet for a moment, thinking.

 

“You have concerns,” he guesses, and Sehun nods.

 

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’ve never done anything like this before.” Sehun’s back to fiddling with his napkin again, picking it apart into tiny, white pieces. “I was kinda hoping you’d give me some advice.”

 

Jongin hums in acknowledgement as he chews slowly, thinking it over. A moment later, he takes a sip of his drink, clears his throat, and speaks.

 

“Well,” he begins, stopping to wipe some of the grease from his mouth with a napkin. “If it were me in your situation, and someone asked me to quit my job for them, I’d refuse.”

 

Sehun nods, but Jongin holds up a hand to show he isn’t finished.

 

“But,” he lowers said hand, using the other to point a chicken wing at Sehun. “This isn’t me we’re talking about, and while I love being a stripper, I know _you_ don’t. It’s not like he’s asking you to quit something you actually _like_ , which would be different.”

 

Sehun waits for Jongin to take a break and stuff his mouth full of chicken before he replies.

 

“That’s true, but I also don’t want him to think he’s ‘saving me’ from it. I might not love stripping, but it’s not like I hate it either.”

 

“Then _tell him_ that,” Jongin says with his mouth full, before pausing to swallow his food. “I’m guessing if you like him as much as you seem to, that he isn’t a complete asshole. I’m sure he’d understand.”

 

“Yeah,” Sehun nods again, still a little unconvinced. “I guess you’re right.”

 

“Look,” Jongin purses his lips, laying his palms down flat on the table. “In the end what it comes down to, is that you’d be trading one form of sex work for another. You already deal with the stigma, you already know as well as I do that being a sex worker doesn’t make you a terrible person. The only question you really need to ask yourself, is whether you’re actually willing to sleep with this guy for money.” Here he pauses, eyes flickering to Sehun’s neck, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And judging by the looks of things, having sex with him isn’t really a problem for you.”

 

Sehun blushes all over again, and throws his napkin at Jongin. Jongin retaliates by kicking him under the table.

 

“But isn’t that deceptive?” he asks, once their little scuffle is over. “To do this with someone you actually like? Wouldn’t I just be using him?”

 

“He _offered_ ,” Jongin counters. “Besides, he wouldn’t ask to be your sugar daddy unless he actually likes you too. In the end it’ll probably be like a normal relationship, except that he buys you stuff.”

 

“Okay,” Sehun nods, and for now he has no more questions, merely allowing their conversation to sink in, and thinking about everything Jongin’s told him.

 

“But I hope you realise that if you say yes, I’m gonna need to meet him so I can embarrass you.”

 

Sehun snorts and rolls his eyes.

 

“As if.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After his lunch date with Jongin, Sehun has somewhat of a busy day. He doesn’t really get a chance to think about Kyungsoo or the offer much, the decision still hanging over his head pushed to the back of his mind for the time being.

 

But by the time evening falls and all of his work is done, he can no longer avoid it, and he finds his fingers hovering over the number Kyungsoo put into his phone for him before he left in the morning.

 

He bites his lip.

 

Maybe he doesn’t have to come to a decision just yet, but he wants to.

 

It’s with shaky fingers that he presses the number, the sound of the dial tone out of sync with his erratic heartbeat.

 

“Hello?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later, Sehun finishes towelling off his hair from a post-dance class shower, shoves the towel into his duffel bag, and falls into step with Jongin and Yixing (a Chinese exchange student attending the same university as them) on their way out of the building.

 

“Sehun!” he greets in cheerfully accented Korean. “Me and Jongin are going to go get some lunch. Do you want to join us?”

 

“Ahh, sorry hyung,” he says, checking his watch. “I have plans.”

 

“With daddy?” Jongin asks with a smirk, and Sehun scowls at him.

 

It’s an annoying habit Jongin’s picked up to tease him. Referring to Kyungsoo as ‘daddy’ behind his back that is, and every time, Sehun has to try and keep a straight face and pretend Jongin isn’t spot on about their sex life.

 

“With _Kyungsoo_ ,” he corrects. “Yes.”

 

Yixing just glances between the two of them in polite confusion, the conversation obviously lost on him and his limited use of Korean. Sehun doesn’t really feel like explaining. There are some things he’s better off not knowing.

 

They step out of the building now, and a familiar black Mercedes is pulled up to the curb, idling.

 

“Use protection,” Jongin calls, once he bids his friends goodbye and steps towards it. Yixing seems to understand this time, because he giggles, and Sehun flips them both off before he opens the passenger door and slides in.

 

“Hello,” Kyungsoo greets, leaning across the centre console for a kiss. By the time he pulls back he’s got one hand on Sehun’s thigh, the other on the steering wheel, and he glances briefly in the rear view mirror before he pulls out into the road.

 

“Hi,” Sehun replies, raking his eyes over him. He’s discarded his suit jacket on the back seat, the sleeves of his white button up rolled up to the elbows. Sehun thinks he probably shouldn’t tell Kyungsoo how hot that looks, or he’ll start doing it on purpose, just to rile him up.

 

“How was your day?” Kyungsoo asks conversationally. The hand on Sehun’s thigh disappears when he needs to change gear, so Sehun reaches across the console to reverse their positions. Kyungsoo glances down at the hand on his lap, smiling a little.

 

“Any professor who insists on early classes on a Friday is just sadistic,” he grumbles in answer, rolling his eyes. “How was yours?”

 

“A bit stressful,” Kyungsoo sighs. “I almost couldn’t get away for lunch, but I told them it was important.”

 

“Hmm,” Sehun hums, and then his hand moves with purpose, a little further up Kyungsoo’s thigh, and his voice turns teasing. “Maybe I could help with that?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to notice the shift in tone at first, too focused on navigating the busy streets of Seoul during the lunch-time rush. But then Sehun’s hand moves to unzip his fly, and Kyungsoo glances down in alarm.

 

“Sehun,” he reprimands, voice warning. But Sehun can see the way his throat bobs when he massages him to hardness through his briefs, sees the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

 

“Yes daddy?” he answers, looking up at him with feigned innocence from where he’s already half-bent over the centre console.

 

“What is your ulterior motive here?” Kyungsoo asks, but his teeth are gritted, and his voice is already a little more gruff.

 

“I have my eye on a new phone,” he admits with a shrug, before dipping down and pulling Kyungsoo’s cock out of his briefs, his breath making it twitch before he presses his lips to the head.

 

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo warns again, struggling to both keep his eyes on the road and watch as the younger parts his lips and wraps them around the head of his cock. “This is illegal.”

 

Sehun pulls back and off with a little pop, taking a breath and licking his lips before he speaks.

 

“Isn’t this why you have tinted windows?” He asks, and despite Kyungsoo’s protests, he can see that his thighs have spread a little bit more, legs parting in willingness to Sehun’s impromptu blowjob.

 

“If we get arrested for public indecency,” Kyungsoo growls, as Sehun licks all the way from base to tip in one fluid motion. “I’m _not_ paying your bail money.”

 

“Yes you will,” Sehun counters, before taking Kyungsoo back into his mouth and sliding down, down, until he feels the tip hit the back of his throat, and he swallows.

 

And Kyungsoo seems to agree, because he doesn’t say anything in objection. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all for the next ten minutes, silent save for his heavy breathing, and deep, choked off groans that reverberate around in the car interior

 

He comes with a hand in Sehun’s hair, holding him down until he’s swallowed all of it. Sehun pulls off licking his teeth, and patting Kyungsoo’s thigh affectionately as he tucks his softening cock back into his briefs and zips up his pants for him.

 

“You’re insane,” Kyungsoo finally mutters as they pull into a parking space outside the restaurant they’d made reservations at for lunch.

 

Sehun just smirks as he fixes his hair in the rear view mirror. Nothing to do about his red cheeks though.

 

Or the entirely visible bulge in his pants, now that’s he’s half-hard himself.

 

Maybe Kyungsoo will help him out in the restaurant bathroom later, once they get inside.

 

 

 

(He does.)

 

 


End file.
